


Come Back To Reality

by Val_Creative



Series: 31 Days of Horror/Halloween Challenge [25]
Category: Picnic at Hanging Rock (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Consensual, Drama, F/F, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, Light Angst, Love, Lovecraftian, Mild Horror, Olfactophilia, Period Typical Attitudes, Polyamory, Romantic Friendship, Scent Kink, Sexual Content, Tickling, Touching, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 17:01:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16412399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Difficulty arises when considering the mystery and terror overwhelming her, fogging away all the pleasure of love in her life. Something profane,hellishand taunting, creeps through Mrs. Appleyard’s school and Miranda senses it like a viper.





	Come Back To Reality

**Author's Note:**

> If you have not watched the original film or watch the 2018 tv series,,, I'm begging you to DO IT. JUST. DO IT. It has canon wlw and mlm and an amazing mystery and horror and drama and I love it oodles and oodles! Watch it! If you got any comments, go ahead and leave them! If you have seen either the film or tv series, come tell me what your favorite bits were! Have you guys read the book too?

 

*

By the flamelight of the tapers, Miranda can glimpse Irma and Marion writhing on the linens, panting.

They're side-by-side, bare-breasted and tugging up their nightskirts, completely aware of their third companion. Their soft, blushing mouths come together, nuzzling gently before opening for a slow, warm kiss, Imra's giggles reverberating in the bedchambers. One of Marion's delicate, brown hands stirs between Imra's legs, rubbing down and _touching_ around that sensitive, forbidden place Miranda has only once kissed on a whim, breathing in the heavy-hot, damp muskiness.

Irma tastes like heat and salt, when they've stolen a lazy kiss or two in the shadows, and a hint of rose oil.

Marion's lips are far more chapped and fuller in sensation against Miranda's neck and her collarbone. She's meeker than Irma, by nature, and has the strongest scent of newly grown lilacs on her blouses and undergarments.

(Miranda hasn't the faintest idea on what _associations_ herself carries.)

Difficulty arises when considering the mystery and terror overwhelming her, fogging away all the pleasure of love. Something profane, _hellish_ and taunting, creeps through Mrs. Appleyard's school and Miranda senses it like a viper.

She's never questioned her sanity of the fragility of her morality, but while lying in the middle of the sheets against her girls, Miranda feels that helpless, _hopeless_ burden weighting down on her chest. Imra mumbles out for Miranda, noticing her restlessness, sleepy and yet devilishly joyous, tickling under Miranda's knee until she laughs in protest, kicking out.

The headmistress said their _precious_ , unbroken virtue and societal image is what others deem important.

Not their minds. Not the celebration of their womanhood.

And perhaps Miranda agrees — she will not celebrate something so _natural_ , so expected of attention, pressing her lips repeatedly over Irma's slim, pale belly and Marion's eyelids quivering in anticipation.

*

 


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